


Tales of Excitement!

by CyclopsCaveman



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22384738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyclopsCaveman/pseuds/CyclopsCaveman
Summary: Jess comes to Merci City to find herself and forge her own identity. But an accident gives Jess superpowers, and she gets drawn into a whole new world, one that challenges her notions of herself and what it means to be a hero... or a villain!
Kudos: 1





	1. The Fire and The Fury!

“What’s it like, anyway? Cleaning up after supers that is.”

“It’s pretty chill, honestly. You spend most of your time just collecting blood in buckets to be disposed of in the hazmat bins once you get back to the headquarters. The rest is a lot of Windex and carpet shampoo getting everything to look relatively normal.”

“You ever wonder what it tastes like?”

“What it... tastes like?”

“Yeah. Do you think super blood tastes different? You ever wonder if what they’ve got coming out of them has a different texture or taste than regular people’s?”

“Personally, no. I don’t really tend to think about that kinda stuff.” My roommate Claire’s face fell, almost as if in disappointment. “Although, some of the blood does beckon you sometimes. Some of these supers spread themselves by turning other people into copies of themselves, and the blood ends up with the ability to prod at your mind to try and get you to ingest it. It’s wild.”

“I guess it hasn’t worked yet?” She asked, a wry smile crossing her face. 

“I try to avoid the jobs where that’s likely,” I say back, “but every so often one comes up with a payday that’s pretty good, so I take it. It’s hard to resist but I manage.”

“Well, Jess,” she says, running the tips of her fingers up and down her leg, “all I’m trying to say is it wouldn’t be the worst origin story.” 

In a sea of below average, piss-poor contracts, one stood out to me against all the others. It was a high-risk contract, but it paid gangbusters. I would almost be able to quit off it if I wanted. I snatched the job up and went to work as quickly as possible. I was moving so quick I hadn’t realized I forgot my face mask until after I’d arrived, but I wasn’t worried. What was the worst that could go wrong?

Once I got to the job site and began working, the usual thoughts crept into my mind, aided by the conversation with my roommate from the other day. It was odd, sure, but she had already introduced herself to me as a vampire fan. What had also failed to help was that it was a site of a rather violent ritual, and some areas had small pools of blood just sitting there, stagnant. 

I had gotten pretty into it and managed to keep the intrusive thoughts from the just staggering amount of blood away for quite a while, I had barely noticed it passed into lunch by the time I was about halfway done. Unfortunately for me, all the slip resistance in the world couldn’t have saved me as I tripped on an errant box and fell face first into the unclean half of the room, instinctively shouting, “Oh, FFUUCK!”

Sitting up, blood all over my face and clothes, and inside my mouth, I began to wipe it off my face, and I instinctively swallowed. I quickly rushed to the bathroom to clean any blood off my skin and I hoped nobody would notice anything odd about my clothes being covered in blood. 

I got paid, at least, so I decided it’d be cool to take the next few days off, to clear my head and figure out the consequences of my accident. For the most part, I didn’t notice anything too weird. I had just started E, so any real changes I just wrote off as being from my transition.

I ate a lot, way more than most people would consider sane. But as the transformation went on, I just kept getting hungrier and hungrier, and I was hungry ALL THE TIME. It got even worse when I looked in the mirror and noticed my teeth had shifted and morphed into fangs. Claire kept expressing concern for me and trying to comfort me after the accident, but I tried to hold out as long as I could without telling her about the hunger, for fear she’d be unduly worried about me. 

I ended up cracking sooner or later. One day, deliriously hungry and almost out of my mind, I finally asked Claire if I could suck her blood. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

I’ll leave the bloody details up to your imagination, but the end result is that I felt calm and relaxed enough to go back to work the next day. One thing I did notice is after the bite, things seemed to be easier to lift and I kept leaving bends and dents in things I had grabbed easily before. It seemed to have gone away after a while, though, since my alarm clock was in tact when I woke up. 

The job is a bit more fun now. I had to get reregistered as a working super, with my known superpower being “can suck blood,” which sounds kinda lame but it also means the job is a lot more fun, and I can take even the most dangerous jobs and not get affected by them. 

Claire seemed to really enjoy having a vampire roommate. Best of all, it seemed like whenever I sucked her blood it made me feel strong and confident, which made the rest of the night GREAT. One night gave me this particular great exchange. I had just finished sucking Claire’s blood, and as I was bringing my head up, she said, “Jess, I think you might be addicted.”

“What, me? Addicted?” I paused to lick my lips. “No way.”

In a way, though, she was right. I enjoyed feeling the rush from taking in the blood and the feeling of power that came with it.

Then, one day, I met Firebrand. 

***

Between the accident and meeting Firebrand was about a month. I didn’t need to sleep, so most nights, I’d go to a bar, find a victim, and pick fights just to enjoy beating people up. After they’d kick me out for causing a disturbance, I’d usually still have a lot of pent up energy. More than once I’d just hold up a convenience store for free beer.

At some point I had started attracting attention from heroes, I think. Every so often I’d feel like I was being watched, and I’d look up into the sky and see a hero just floating there, their cape blowing in the wind, staring intently. They never made any moves on me, but it was scary. But when it was late at night and I was high on blood, I forgot about it completely. 

This is all to say that I wasn’t exactly a good egg after transforming. But, I liked it. I liked it a lot, and what was really weird was I never really felt any remorse for what I was doing. So what if I terrorized people just a little bit? That’s practically the currency of Merci. 

So, to set the stage, I was robbing a store I had robbed multiple times now. I hadn’t bothered to check and see if there were any supers in there because there never were, and who the fuck would try and stop ME?

Then, behind me, I hear a loud crack, a sound like a dragon breathing fire, and a wave of heat passes over my back. “Robbing a convenience store? How droll.”

I eased up from my threatening position on the cashier, and said, “Oh, somebody wants to play the hero?” I retorted, trying to maintain confidence. 

“‘Hero’ is for super powered girl scouts that think they’re protecting people by keeping everything the same.” 

As I turned around, ready to get to the fighting, I realized I was making a grave mistake. The woman talking to me was wearing a black leather jacket, a black, pinched front cowboy hat, black denim jeans, and black boots. She was staring intently at me, a lit cigar smoldering in her mouth, a black whip in her hand, which the back of her palm was resting on her hip. And right there, dead center of her waist, was the most frightening belt buckle I had ever seen. 

Four lightning bolts. Pink, then orange, green, and purple. That symbol was the symbol of a serious villain. Not every villain used it, mind, but if you did use it you weren’t some small time criminal, you had serious power and you knew it. Little old me was staring down the scariest possible thing I could. Villains don’t hold back. Thinking quickly, but unclearly, I lunged at her, ready to punch her. I landed a fist square in her stomach, hoping to knock the wind out of her, but she just stood there. 

Menacingly. 

Weakly, I looked up to her, fist still planted on her stomach, giving quite possibly the slimiest smile she’s ever seen. She stared at me, and brought her free hand up. She kept it flat, and I noticed the air around it wavering. She brought it across my face sharply, in a slap that hurt more than anything I had ever experienced before. “You and I should talk about some stuff,” she said to me over my screams. She grabbed my collar, and continued as she dragged me out the door, “Come on. Let’s go before the cops get here.”

Not wanting to get hit like that again–and hoping my face wasn’t burned–I followed, her roughly jerking my collar all the while. She dragged me a few blocks away into an alley, and shoved me into a doorway. Turning a light on, it appeared we were in a small safe house. She shoved me onto the bed across from the doorway and cracked her whip in front of my face, forcing me to watch it light on fire. “Who are you?” she growled, seemingly ready to pounce on me if I gave the wrong answer. 

“J-jess! My name’s Jess!”

She stared at me, squinting. Her cigar almost seemed to glow brighter. Slowly, she shifted her cigar from one side of her mouth to the other, keeping her gaze fixed to my face. If I wasn’t scared shitless, I’d almost be smitten. “What did you just say?” she asked, having heard me perfectly fine. 

“I, uh, I said my name is Jess.”

“That’s a piss poor name for a villain.” She continued staring at me, the smoke from her cigar floating up past her sun-beaten, weathered face. She let the statement hang in the deafening silence, the only noise being the cars outside. Moments that felt like hours passed before she finally spoke again. “Is that your civilian name, or something?” I laid there in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. If I told her the truth, what would happen? Her intense stare and willingness to let the weight of the room sit on me weren’t helping at all. Before I could muster up an excuse, she finally said, “You fucking dumbass,” as she bowed and shook her head. After a brief pause, even for normal conversation, she continued, “Do you know what kinda danger that shit can put you in? Not every villain out there is willing to check you on your bullshit. Most of ‘em would be more than willing to destroy you, turn your life upside down cos of what you like to do. And that’s just the civilians. Some no-name punk like you can barely hang with common thugs, and yet you give out your REAL NAME like you ain’t even thought this villain thing through yet. Like you just doin’ it for fun or somethin’. No better ‘n pond scum and here you are tryin’ to fight with someone way outta your league. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Who are you, anyway?”

“Name’s Firebrand.”

Oh. Shit. “THAT Firebrand?” I asked. 

“The very same. Super-powered terror of the Wild West, member of a lineage of supers going back almost 200 years. You’re lucky I didn’t tan your hide, but I ain’t boutta leave you to those pigs, not without some answers.” She cracked her whip in front of my face again, and I gulped in response. “So, let’s talk, greenhorn. Let’s talk nice, and, long.”

***

“So,” she began, slowly, deliberately, “what are your powers?”

“Did you call me cute?”

“POWERS, greenhorn.”

“I-i don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she asked, bringing her head slightly forward. 

“I just, I don’t know, okay! I haven’t been a super for long. I don’t understand why or when my powers come out, they just do.” I was hoping to avoid spilling anything embarrassing if I could.

“Well,” she said, “if you don’t know your powers, how did you get them?”

“I, uh, fell... in some blood...”

“You what?”

“I fell in some blood,” I repeated. “I work cleaning up after supers and I fell in a big pile of blood. You happy?”

“How long has it been since your accident?”

“About a month, why?”

“And you haven’t noticed any physical changes?”

“I became more feminine, but that’s it. A little hip widening, some slightly faster hair growth, got boobs, but no hair color or height change like the the twinning stories usually go.” What was she trying to get at?

“Listen, greenhorn,” she began, walking up to me. “We’re gonna stay the night here.” She sat down next to me, and I felt the heat radiating from her body. She looked into my eyes, a soft expression on her face for the first time since I met her. I could feel the high from some rando’s blood wearing off, which was a good thing, but it made me notice her face more, the bold green of her eyes contrasted against the pitch black of her short hair. She slipped off her hat, and placed it on a nearby shelf, and hung her jacket over the edge of the bed. As she did this, I felt lost in her body, examining her muscles flexing as she moved her arms, watching her eyes flick around as she looked over the room. She was beautiful. 

“What’s your name?” I asked. 

“Firebrand. Only name I have, and it’s the only name I need.”

The rest of the night proceeded rather uneventfully. We talked quite a bit, bonding over the shared outcome of our transformation. Firebrand was gruff on the outside, but she seemed kind and caring on the inside. As we were about to sleep, one last question burned in my mind. 

“Did you really mean it? When you said I was cute.”

“Yeah.” she responded, turning her head towards mine. 

I turned mine to hers in response. “I think you’re beautiful.”

She reached over, gently laid a hand on the back of my head, and pulled me in for a kiss. “Beautiful enough for you?”

I kissed her back, and we eventually fell asleep, embracing each other. 

I woke up a few hours later to an alarm clock and Firebrand standing there, a gentle smile on her face. My head HURT and I was hungrier than I had ever been. “I need to get home,” I managed weakly. What was going on to make me so hungry?

“What’s wrong?”

“I just have a really bad craving for blood,” I responded. 

“Bite me,” Firebrand said.

“Bite... you?” Really?

“Did I stutter?”

“Aren’t you worried I might accidentally turn you into a vampire?” What the hell was she thinking?

“I think I can handle a touch of vampirism, greenhorn,” she said, and brought her neck out toward me. I sunk my teeth in and began to draw blood, drinking deep from her.

Then I passed out.

I didn’t know what happened, but I woke up in this... place. There were a few people there, spirits mostly, but they were all shocked to see me there, almost panicky. I turn around, trying to figure out where I am, and I see Firebrand behind me, and she looks pissed.

“What the HELL is going on right now?”

***

There’s something to be said about the beauty of the Firebrand realm. It’s a town that looks like it was ripped straight from the Old West, with a saloon, and a general store, and some houses, but not much else unique about it. Off on the horizon, however, there’s endless stretches of mesas, wild rock formations, cactuses, gorges, and desert flora as far as the eye can see. And the sky burns like fire, lighting the whole world in an intense, orange glow that shimmers and waves as if you could stand inside a flame. 

The Firebrand realm is where all the current and past Firebrands congregate, their souls living together and passing on their wisdom to one another in order to strengthen the Firebrand as a whole. It’s a sacred, spiritual realm that can only be accessed by those that have the connection to the Firebrand. Those living with the connection to the Firebrand have access to incredible control over fire, but if your concentration lapses enough you can start an uncontrollable flame that could potentially kill you or devastate an entire area if you’re not careful. The Firebrands tend to only choose people deemed worthy of being able to hold the mantle and keep their concentration when things get tough so entire cities don’t get burned down. 

I am not worthy of being a Firebrand. 

“Greenhorn, you have NO IDEA how pissed I am at you.”

“I have no idea what’s happening!” I said, fear lacing every word. “Weren’t we just in bed together? What’s going on? Where are we?”

“Later.” If she wasn’t so damn good at hiding her emotions, I’d almost think she snapped at me. “You’re not supposed to be here, and there’s a building full of innocent civilians burning down around us, and not only will they be dead, but we’re gonna be crushed if you don’t snap out of this soon. I need you to concentrate.”

I nodded, “What do you need me to do?”

“Normally this is supposed to take some more time than this, but I need you to focus on the outside world.” I nodded, and closed my eyes to try and help get focused. “Pull yourself back to your conscious mind on the other side of the Firebrand realm. Try and remember what the room looked like, where you were before becoming connected. Take measured breaths, and concentrate on your self, feel your physical form.” As she described all of that, I began to see myself in the bedroom, atop a melting bed, engulfed in flames. Firebrand was next to me directing the flames around herself. “Do you have a connection to your body? Can you see yourself in the real world?” I nodded. “Try to move your arm.” I tried, but my fingers barely twitched at the stimulus.

“Focus, Greenhorn. The power of the flame moves inside you, it alters your body. Try not to move just your arm, but the flame as well.” As if those were the magic words, it happened, I was able to move my arms. “Now, focus on bringing the flame inside you, turning your vision outward. This may take some time.” Moments passed, the flames in the bedroom easing away. As they diminished, I could feel the bedroom getting more tangible, and the Firebrand realm getting less so. 

“I think I’ve gotten there!” I shouted, and saw Firebrand smile at me, her clothes still intact in spite of the rest of the room being charcoaled. Before I could really assess my health and state of undress, and almost as if on cue, there was a loud banging from the door. It came, once, then twice, and finally a third time as the door flew open. Standing in the harsh sunlight was a man clad in a white super costume, emblazoned with a golden cross covering the torso. He had no mask, but wore a crown of thorns on his head, and scanned the room with a disgusted look on his face. 

“Holy Fire,” Firebrand growled. 

“Firebrand!” he shouted, sounding like he was dragged from the pit of Souther Baptism. “I should have KNOWN it was you behind this! Had to terrorize innocent people showing off to your concubine, didn’t you?!”

“This building is still burning. There are people inside that need to be saved.”

“No worries on that,” Holy Fire tutted. “The firemen are already far ahead of either you or I, all the civilians have been long rescued.” He turned his back, “Now, come! You two are going to jail.” Suddenly, a large burst of flame shot him in the back, pushing him out into the street. 

“We’re not going anywhere.”

“Get yourself decent,” Firebrand practically barked, pointing to the burned open closet with somehow still intact clothes in it. “I’ll meet you outside.” She cracked her whip in front of her, walking out the door “Why don’t you show me what you’re made of, preacher-boy?!” she shouted as she emerged into the daylight. 

I quickly threw on one of the jackets and a pair of pants, and rushed outside. There were scorch marks on the brick where Holy Fire had been pushed out of the room. Some trash cans were toppled over and there was some damage to the wall, but the two had already moved to the street. 

I turned to see Firebrand staring up at Holy Fire and two other supers. One wore a blue outfit and had the appearance of a hawk anthro, and the other was a bald woman in some kind of skimpy, alien armor. “It’s over for you, now, Firebrand!” Holy Fire shouted. “You’re outnumbered!”

“Best to just surrender!” continued the hawk anthro. 

“Resisting arrest will only make your sentence longer,” the bald woman finished. 

“Outnumbered doesn’t mean we still can’t kick your asses!” I shouted, approaching the three heroes staring us down. 

Holy Fire laughed, a bellowing, mocking sound. ‘Stay outta this, greenhorn,’ Firebrand responded in my head. ‘We don’t know how long your connection to the Firebrand will last. There’s no way to know you’ll be able to last the whole fight.’

“And just what does a whore like you think you can do against me?” Holy Fire asked. That cut deep. I could feel the anger growing inside me. Who was he to call me a whore? “Begone with you,” he continued. “This is no place for a civilian!”

“I’m not a civilian, you presumptuous cur!” I shouted back. 

“Then you should turn away from a life of villainy! The only place you’ll end up with this,” he pointed dismissively at Firebrand, “delinquent MAN, is the city jail!”

I felt an anger I hadn’t really felt before at that. It may have been the Firebrand itself amping my emotion. “SUCK MY FAT GIRL DICK!” I shouted, instinctively firing a large blast of fire at his stupid, smug face. 

I watched in awe as he carelessly deflected the fire away into the sky. “Wrong answer,” he said flatly. 

As if on some damnable cue, another voice piped up. “Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well! What a show, here! Holy Fire, Man-Hawk, Neutron, and Firebrand! And,” they gasped, “a new face, too! I just love a good showdown.” I turned around to see who it was, and I saw a woman with a dark navy dress and six arms emerge from the opposite side of the alley. “Madame Marquise. Charmed, I’m sure.”

Merci, being a city full of supers, usually means one or two will run into each other every now and again. Four supers in the same place is exceedingly rare, and SIX is even more rare. The awful part about this is that the more supers there are in one spot, the more likely you are to see even more supers roll in to start defending the citizenry, loot without getting caught, or just to join in on a good fight. Most fights don’t devolve into total chaos like this, but when they do, they’re called Flashpoint Riots, and entire blocks can get leveled by the supers all fighting one another in the chaos. 

I had never personally been in a Flashpoint Riot, but with the arrival of Totally Not Vriska, well–

“Marquise!” Holy Fire boomed, “So nice to see you here. I was wondering how long you were going to be rug shopping before you finally admitted you needed to see the light.” Jesus this guy is a dick. What’s his deal?

“O! Holy Fire, always bugging and fussing and meddling,” Marquise retorted. “What’s your deal? And here you are outnumbering Firebrand yet again. How dishonorable of a holy man such as yourself. It’s almost like you’re scared of her or something. Here,” she brought her top pair of arms around her head, one over the top and the other under her chin, “let me even things up a bit.” Suddenly, Man-Hawk bit Holy Fire on the shoulder, and kicked him away. Holy Fire launched a blast of flame at Marquise, and Firebrand deflected it away towards Neutron, who blasted the fire with some kind of energy and dissipated it. 

Man-Hawk floated there, separated from Holy Fire and Neutron now, and Marquise remained quiet, locked in concentration. The tension just keeps getting thicker, every new super or blow exchanged making it much more likely things were to go south. “This is an outrage,” Neutron spoke, “mind controlling an anthro just to get the upper hand, and you wish to talk about dishonor.” Neutron brought her arms up, pointing her fists at Marquise, the gold of her wrist circlets glinting in the sunlight. “Perhaps I should teach you a less–“ Neutron was suddenly cut short by yet another super, with various machinery and rockets attached to their body, landing a clean hook into her face. 

Faintly, I hear a ‘grab onto me’ inside my head, and not wanting to waste another second here, I grab onto Firebrand and watch the fight begin to get ugly as the world disappears in flames.

When we emerged, it was dark. I heard the familiar snap of Firebrand’s whip, and watched as several orbs of fire traveled outward and lit torches on the ends of the wall. We were in a temple, with a high ceiling carved into rock. The room was simple, no special carvings or affectations. Just in the center, set into the ground, was a metal pole with an intricate, curving design on the top. “Where are we?” I asked. 

“This is The Temple Of The Spark That Lights The Flame,” Firebrand responded. “Every Firebrand gets birthed here, and only Firebrands know it’s true location. This is the safest place in the entire city. We can lay low for a moment here while Holy Fire is on the watch for us.”

“So, were we about to witness a Flashpoint Riot?”

“It already was one, greenhorn. Flashpoint Riots are defined when three or more villains are in the same crime scene at once. I was one, you were two, and Marquise was number three. Soon as Ace showed up I knew we were in deep shit. They love jumping into large fights just to knock people around.”

“Am I really a villain? Even though all I’ve done is rob convenience stores?” I can’t believe it, I’m not ready for the world of villainy. 

“You might not like it, but you were the minute you started robbin’ corner stores. Even if you weren’t, now you are. Burnin’ down a building ain’t exactly a good look, greenhorn. Made an enemy for life with Holy Fire there, too. He’s not exactly one to let go of a grudge.”

“Who is that asshole anyway?”

“An old, old enemy of the Firebrands. Man is a menace. Been on our case for more than 60 years now. Thinks our power comes from the devil, and our way of life is disruptive to the citizenry and counter to God. He killed my mentor about ten years ago, the Firebrand that came before me. My mentor showed me what it really meant to be a Firebrand, what the freedom of the flame represented, and how the changing power of the flame could be used to make the world a better place. Holy Fire showed me what it meant to be a hero. To talk about saving people and defending their rights, while keeping them paralyzed in fear of a false enemy, always ready to give up their freedom for protection from monsters that don’t exist. I fly the bolts now because he made me know where I stand, and it ain’t on the side of the heroes.”

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with that disgusting man. Seems like just another horrible, bigoted Christian. Maybe I can help you put him away for good now that I have your badass fire powers now too.”

“First off, I have two someones you might wanna meet. Second off, you’re not keeping the powers. I could already feel your connection diminishing as soon as you entered the realm. That’s why it was so easy for you to get out. You’re probably gonna be disconnected from it in a few hours, at most.”

“Well, I wanna be connected forever! I wanna take that bastard out with the fire he hates so much.”

“No,” she simply said, standing up and slipping her jacket off onto the floor, and removing her soot-stained white shirt. She turned around to reveal a scar on her back, an intricate design, somehow resembling a burning flame while also resembling an ancient, unreadable set of runes. “This,” she continued. “Is the Firebrand. It’s what gives us our connection to the realm. It represents not only the sacrifice needed to become a Firebrand, but the transformation of fire from the old to the new. Only certain individuals get to wear it,” she slipped her shirt back on, “and you are not one of them. What you need,” she grabbed her jacket from the ground and slung it over her shoulder, “is to focus on your own powers. Mastery over your power is vital to survival out here, greenhorn.”

“I still don’t really know how my power activates though,” I shifted uncomfortably. 

“Greenhorn,” Firebrand responded flatly, “you get your powers from drinking blood.”

“Okay,” I said exasperated, “great! Am I supposed to just suck a bunch of super blood just to find out more about how my powers work? Besides, who would even agree to help me with that?”

Firebrand smiled knowingly. “Let’s not talk about super stuff for a minute. Come, I’m starving.” As we left, Firebrand snapped her fingers and the torches went out with a wink.

***

We exited inside a small house on the face of a mountain. The decor looked like it was ripped straight from the seventies, with wood paneled walls across the house, and practically every appliance having some sort of faux wood paneling on it. “Home Sweet Home,” Firebrand whispered. “It’s not much, but this is where I live.”

“It seems... cozy.” I lied. 

“What’s say we get some stew started? I know a great gumbo recipe that’s sure to knock your socks off.”

“Now that doesn’t sound too bad,” I said.

“You relax on the couch over there,” she pointed to a wide, leather sofa across from the TV. In the open concept of the house, I could tell it was one of the newest things in the entire place. “I’ll get started on the gumbo.”

As I sat on the couch and waited for Firebrand to finish the gumbo, I could feel my exhausted brain slipping into a nap. After what felt like a few minutes of napping, I woke up to the sounds of an electric guitar coming from the speaker system. Firebrand had turned on an old vinyl record player, and put on an album. She had set the album art in a way so it was facing us, and I couldn’t quite read any of the words on it, but it had two white women facing away from each other on it, with a heart centered between them at the bottom. Carrying in two steaming bowls with utensils poking out of them, she asked, “Do you like Heart?”

“The band that did Barracuda?” I responded.

Firebrand chuckled, and handed me a bowl. “They did far more than just Barracuda, greenhorn.”

We chatted for a bit over Firebrand’s gumbo–which was made with chicken and sausage–and eventually I felt my connection to the Firebrand realm disappear completely. “It’s gone,” I said. 

“No longer connected, huh?”

“Yeah,” I responded.

“Y’know, even with the limitation you have, you got a really powerful ability there. The possibilities are almost endless to what powers you can have.”

“I guess,” I said, “seems kinda useless if I have to find a super to suck blood from every time I need to get in a fight. Just busting into a nearby bar, shouting about how I need to suck the blood of someone with super strength so I can fight a bad guy.” We laughed. 

Firebrand shrugged, “Every problem has its own unique solutions.”

We sat in silence for a couple minutes, and then Firebrand perked up as a song started. “This right here is my favorite song. I’ve loved it ever since my mentor showed it to me when he first took me in. It still makes me think of him to this day.” Then, to my surprise, she started singing. 

“Can you feel the light shine?  
You know this song’s yours and mine  
Ain’t it good to know you got a place to go  
Where the melody’s fine?  
Sometimes I’m not so strong  
Even now I could be wrong  
But if you love me like music  
I’ll be your song”

As Firebrand wiped the tears from her face, I said, “That was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she sniffled. “I was in choir when I was young, before I became the Firebrand. I’m really happy my pipes survived the transformation.”

Not long after, we both went to sleep. 

The next day, Firebrand brought me to her garage. “This,” she said, flipping the light-switch to reveal a jet-black convertible with the bolts across the hood, “is my pride and joy. A 1967 Pontiac Firebird 400 custom built by the Merci Institute of Villainous Technology. This is our ride for today.”

It was forecast to be a clear day, so Firebrand lowered the top and we went on our way. Firebrand was wearing her usual outfit, and for me she loaned me a simple, white t-shirt, a pair of her black denim jeans, and some black sneakers with white soles. “Our first stop,” she said, “is gonna be at a place of some old friends of mine, Peter and Paul. After Holy Fire killed my mentor, I fell into a deep depression. I rejected everything about myself and my power, and tried to leave behind everything. When I wanted nothing more than to quit, these two taught me one of the most important lessons I ever learned.”

Eventually, we arrived at a church. It was a small building, almost indistinguishable from any other that could have been there, were it not for the cross sitting atop the roof. “Now,” Firebrand said, turning the car off. “I want you to think about something as you meet Peter and Paul, and as you see what they do here. Why do you think Holy Fire prances around in that suit of his? Why does he push that book of his on everyone and tries to get them to convert?”

“Wait,” I said, “have you been Christian this entire time?”

“Hell no,” she responded. “The only thing I believe in is the Firebrand.” 

We got out of the car and approached the front door, and out of it appeared two men, wearing plain, brown robes, with clean shaven heads. As we got closer, I noticed the building was fairly old, but my examination was cut short as Firebrand greeted the two men. “Peter! Paul! Long time no see, friends! How have you been?”

“We have been graced with the glory of God every day since the last time we saw you,” said the one on the left. His eyes were blue, and he had small lips and a pointed chin. The one on the right had green eyes, and a squarish chin. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Have you come to introduce us to the next Firebrand?”

“Jess here’s not the new Firebrand,” she began, “but she is newly super-powered, and I’ve taken it upon me to mentor her. Jess, this here is Peter,” she pointed to the one on the left, “and this is Paul,” she pointed to the one on the right. “They opened this building many years ago, after they had been running a successful business for near on a decade. One day they decided to shut down their business and take their money to build this place instead. They’ve been with each other practically their entire lives, and have been through more than most anyone I know.”

“Wow,” I said, “you two must be very good friends.”

“Well,” said Paul, “good friends is one way to put it I suppose,” and he and Peter looked at each other knowingly, smiling. “Come,” he continued. “We will show you what we do here.” 

Peter and Paul led us inside the building, and the first thing I noticed was that Pride flags adorned nearly every inch of the walls in the foyer. “Not the sight you expect to see in a holy place, I presume?” Peter said as I scanned the walls, looking at the different flags and trying to identify them. I even began to notice a few that I didn’t even recognize. “Here we consider our worship to be taking in the poor, the sick, the drug addicted, the abandoned, and the needy, and providing for them any way we can, free of charge.”

“We believe that the best we can do as Christians is to help others as much as possible,” said Paul. “We believe it to be our duty to help the lost get back on their feet, whether or not they choose to believe.” They led us from the foyer into an open area inside, where several people were seated at various tables. Some were working on homework, others were playing tabletop games, and a few were reading books. On the far end of the rec room, there were two sets of stairs, one leading upstairs and the other leading downstairs. 

“Peter and Paul took me in at my lowest,” Firebrand said. “They let me stay here for as long as I liked, comforting me and helping me through my darkest period. If it weren’t for their kindness and warmth, I probably wouldn’t be here today.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Christianity hates LGBT people. Why do you help these people? Why give so many of your resources away for free for people that will probably never believe in God?”

“Because,” said Peter, “we put our faith in the word of God, and the word of God preaches unconditional kindness. We believe that God wants us to love everyone, not just followers of Christ. Our mission is to help people, to show them God’s love, and to demonstrate that even if they never believe, God will love them all the same.”

“It is true,” said Paul, “that we read from the same book used by others to commit unspeakable atrocities. We are ashamed of this greatly. We do what we can to reverse that as much as possible. If we are damned in the end for believing, then so be it. We can rest peacefully knowing that even though we believe, we used our beliefs to put as much good into the world as we possibly could.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” I turned angrily to Firebrand, “To proselytize at me?”

Firebrand shook her head. “If I wanted to give you a lecture about how not all Christians are bad, I just woulda given it to you. I didn’t bring you out here for that. I brought you here to teach you your first real lesson about villainy.

Faith is a risk. Everyone takes it. There is not a single person out there who doesn’t believe in something. Even the godless put their faith in something, whether that be the democratic system or Marxism, or it be the foundations of logic and reason. Some put all their faith in money, and others put all their faith in the goodness of other human beings. Peter and Paul here happen to put their unwavering faith in God, and use it to help people. 

Holy Fire also puts his faith in God. He doesn’t just wear the suit and preach that book for show. He lives and breathes God. He helps the poor and the needy, he runs Bible Studies and goes to church. When he promotes anti-LGBT rhetoric, and sends kids from low income families to conversion camps, he’s not doing it because he just wants to run around being evil to kids. He thinks it helps them. He believes, deep in his heart, that what he is doing is showing them love. In his mind, and in the minds of many Christians like him, he’s the hero. 

When you get out there and fight, you have to believe in what you’re fighting for. Whether you become a hero or a villain, faith is your rock. You must believe in whatever you stand for one hundred percent. Because guaranteed, whoever is opposite you is going to have unwavering faith in what they’re fighting for. When the chips are down, and it’s life or death, you have to be certain that what you’re fighting for is right, no matter what.”

“That doesn’t sound very evil,” I said. 

Firebrand simply responded, “Villainy is written by the heroes.”

***

We had lunch at Peter and Paul’s, and then left for the Merci Institute of Villainous Technology. Their building was a tall office building, reaching up about six or seven stories, with the MIVT logo emblazoned in the corner of the front face, with the M being pink, the I being orange, the V being a neon green, and the T being purple. “So, do you know the guy that runs this place, too?” I asked, as we pulled into our parking spot. 

“No,” Firebrand said flatly. “Nobody knows who runs the MIVT, not even their Villainsona. The ownership of the MIVT hasn’t been known since it was founded over 100 years ago. It was started as a place for villains to be able to go to school and develop tech without heroes gettin’ in the way. Heroes don’t touch it. Rumor has it one of the Immortals started the school and got a clause in the Constitution of Heroes preventing it from being knocked down.”

“Immortals?”

“Yeah,” she continued, “some of the heroes and villains don’t ever age. Only one that really comes out anymore is Count Dracula, and that’s just for publicity stunts on Halloween. You’re never gonna see any Immortals unless the fate of the universe is at stake. They don’t swing around Earth much anymore.”

“So what are we doing here, anyway?” I asked, intentionally trying to change the topic. 

“I know a guy here, specializes in identifying powers and makin’ suits for villains to wear. Nice kid, if a bit odd sometimes. His name’s Chip.”

“Just... Chip?”

“He likes chips. Like what goes in computers and such. Don’t ask me,” she shrugged, and led me inside the MIVT. 

Inside, the MIVT was full of brightly colored gadgets, art projects, and other hand-crafted affectations. Firebrand brought me into the front office, where she exchanged some warm greetings with the front desk lady, and got us some visitors tags so we could move around the school relatively unimpeded. We passed through the cafeteria to an area in the back of the building that housed an elevator. We got in, Firebrand punched in some kind of code in the buttons, and we descended into the deepest depths of the MIVT. 

As we arrived at our floor, the elevator lurching to a stop, Firebrand said, “This is where the magic happens,” as the doors slid open. The lab had a pristine, white interior, littered with various tables and people in lab coats working on various machinery. There were even some cybernetic villains. As Firebrand led me through, I gawked at the various sights in the lab. One table had a crocodile anthro working on a large engine, possibly for a car. Another had a tall woman with cybernetics implanted up and down her spine, her chest covered in glossy black armor, being worked on by a human wearing large, coke bottle glasses. Beside her stood a woman with a navy blue, mechanical body and a head with the appearance of a sun. Another had an androgynous person tinkering with arm sized rocketry emblazoned with the bolts. Finally, after a few minutes of walking, we met Chip. 

“Chip, Jess. Jess, Chip,” Firebrand introduced us. 

Chip was a tree frog anthro, with a flat head with two bulging eyes, and a wide, flat mouth. He wore the typical lab coats of the MIVT, and had a flag lapel pin with the bolts on it. Chip raised an orange and green hand, “Hello. He/him please. It is a pleasure to meet friends of the Firebrand. What brings you out here today?”

“We need your help, Chip,” Firebrand said. “Jess here recently got her superpowers, and we need to know how they work and how they’re affecting her.”

“Simple,” Chip said flatly. “We will first take physical measurements and compare them to past known physicals. We anticipated her arrival when we noticed the heroes had put her on the villain watch registry.” He turned to me, “We apologize for the invasion of privacy, but it’s standard procedure for the Institute to acquire as much data as possible on supers in order to better aid our research. We are not as worried about ethics as most other groups. Some moral transgressions must be made in the name of progress.”

“That’s... a little creepy,” I said, wondering how they even got my medical information in the first place. 

“Pure business, I assure you,” Chip responded again flatly. “Come. Time is crimes.” Chip led us into a small room not far from his lab table, into what was basically a small clinic office. 

“I’ll wait outside,” Firebrand said. “Chip is one hundred percent trustworthy. If you need me, just holler.”

Chip closed the door to the room. “Sit,” he said, pointing to the bench lined with paper on the far end of the room. As I sat down, he pulled a clipboard preprepared with a blank form on it, and a large, black pen with gold accents from a drawer in the desk opposite me. “We must fill out a form to start. Time wasting but necessary. Harder to steal written data. Name?”

“Uh... Jess.”

“Jess is your real name is it not? Poor choice. Must come up with a secret identity, a Villainsona. Protects you, protects your family. Better than telling murderers and slanderers your real name.”

“I don’t really know, I haven’t even thought of it.”

“No matter. I will put you down as undecided. As soon as you find a secret identity, call us. We will update your paperwork posthaste. Pronouns?” As I stared dumbly at him, I realized I hadn’t thought about pronouns at all since transforming. I had just kind of accepted people calling me she. “Worry not. Pronouns are mutable. Changeable. Am cis man,” he said, pointing at himself, “so I use he/him. Simple. Effective. Not everyone shares my feelings. We take great pride in the speed of our paperwork updates. Should you feel the need to change, we will change it for you. No questions.”

“She/her for now, I guess,” I said. There was something to be desired from Chip’s flat, monotone delivery, but at least he was nice. 

“Understood,” he said. “Now, it is time we take height and weight measurements. Please stand on the scale.” He pointed toward a scale on one end of the room and I got on it. He scribbled down some notes about my weight and waved me off. “These measurements are going to be particularly in depth. Apologies for any perceived inappropriate contact.” Then, he pulled out one of those flexible ruler-type things that tailors use to measure you and began working. 

As he measured, I asked, “So is Chip your villain name?”

“Of course,” he replied, scribbling notes on his clipboard. 

“Why Chip? It seems pretty lame for a villain name.”

“It is functional. Villainy is secondary. I came to the Institute for research. The Institute requires us to have a secret identity. I picked Chip because it was simple. I have no need for the flamboyance of most Villains.” He continued measuring my body as I mulled over his words. 

“How do most people choose a name?” I finally asked. 

“Aesthetics,” he replied. “Most begin with an aesthetic ideal. Pick a name that matches. Many change names multiple times. No one aesthetic works forever.” He scribbled a few more notes and then continued, “You may sit again. What changes did you notice after gaining your powers? Be specific.”

I sat back down on the bench and began, “Well, I noticed my hips had widened at first, and then I grew some boobs,” I pointed at my relatively normal-sized chest as Chip continued to scrawl notes. “I had just started taking estrogen though, so I don’t really know if it’s connected. I also started getting a craving for blood, it eventually got so strong I had a massive headache and could barely concentrate. Eventually I impulsively asked my roommate if I could suck her blood. I’ve done it a few more times since then, since she’s super powered and it kinda makes me feel really good and strong when I drink it. That’s pretty much it though.”

Chip kept scrawling notes, not looking up from the clipboard. “Genitals?”

“Uh, I just have a penis.”

“We can fix that. If you like.” Chip said, looking up from his clipboard. 

“No thanks.” I said, hesitantly. 

“Offer is always on the table. Time for more personal questions. What aesthetics do you like? Do you have any in mind that you think would suit you?”

“Uhhhh,” I drew it out as I was thinking, “I always kinda liked the whole witchy, satanic vibe I guess? I also kinda like cyberpunk vibes too.”

“Good starting points. The designers will be pleased. Challenge breeds creativity.” He scrawled some more notes down, then continued, “It seems you get powers from drinking blood. We can provide you with some pre-made capsules for quick ingestion in the field. We can also provide empty ones for storage of unique powers. Is this something you’d like?”

“Sure,” I said. “But what about, like, protection? If I get caught without my capsules or my powers run out I could get in serious trouble.”

“You let us worry about that. Come,” he said moving toward the door. “We are finished here.” As we exited, he said to Firebrand, “Relatively simple. No special cases that need my attention. She listens to her needs and she’ll be fine.”

“When can we expect some gear for her?” Firebrand asked, walking us towards the elevator. 

“Gear should not take long to develop. We should have a prototype suit in about a week. Have her think of a name. Names are vital.” 

“Will do, friend,” Firebrand said. “Care to join us for some coffee?”

“I’m afraid I must refuse your generous offer,” Chip replied, opening the elevator. “Perhaps another day.”

“See you soon, friend,” Firebrand said, and the doors to the elevator closed, bringing us up to the ground floor of the MIVT. 

As we got back to Firebrand’s house, the sun hung in the air, only a few hours away from setting. The sky was clear, and the temperature was fair and even. It was a perfect day. Firebrand parked in the garage, and covered the car with a car cover that had been on the ground, and we stepped inside. 

“What a day!” I said, stretching my arms and making my way toward the couch. 

“Hm,” Firebrand grunted. “Got a voicemail,” she said, staring at her phone. “I wonder who it’s from...”

Instead of sitting down, I went to stand beside Firebrand so I could listen to the message. She pushed a button on the machine, and a recording began to play. “Firebrand, help!” That was Paul’s voice, hoarse and wracked with fear. “Please help, Firebrand! Holy fire has taken- he’s taken Peter! My beloved Peter!” Paul moaned and sobbed before continuing. “He burned down our shelter and took Peter! I was able to get the kids out safely, but please! He took Peter! You have to help him!” The recording ended, and the computerized voice from the machine read off the date and time. Holy Fire had kidnapped Paul just a couple hours ago. 

I looked over to Firebrand, and what I saw made me scared. Her eyes were glowing red hot, and her hat had disappeared, replaced by a powerful flame atop her head. Her jaw was clenched, as were her fists. Intense heat radiated off of her as she marched wordlessly toward the door. She jerked it open, the doorknob melting in her hands. She stepped outside, and as soon as she cleared the porch she took off into the sky in a blast of fire. In a panic, I raced outside after her. I had no idea what to do. I had no idea where Firebrand was going. I just knew I had to be there for her. Make sure she wasn’t going to hurt herself. 

I tried running after her, but quickly lost track after no more than a minute. I dropped to my knees, tears in my eyes and terror in my heart. I didn’t know what I could do. I had no idea how I could help. So I did the only thing I could think of to do. 

“HELP!” I screamed as loud as I possibly could. “HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY, ANYBODY! I NEED HELP!”

***

After a few minutes of crying for help, I gave up. I pushed myself weakly off the ground, my eyes full of tears, and began wiping my eyes as I turned around to head inside Firebrand’s house. “Neutron,” I heard, “is that the young lady from the other day? That was with Firebrand?” I turned around to see Man-Hawk and Neutron floating over me, their arms crossed. 

“Why would a villain cry out for help? I thought you all detested heroes,” Neutron said. 

“Please,” I begged, “We got to Firebrand’s house, and, and, she had gotten a voicemail. Holy Fire had kidnapped Peter, and he burned down Peter and Paul’s. Firebrand got really scary looking and she just left. I’m afraid she’s gonna hurt herself, or someone else, badly. Please help.”

Neutron and Man-Hawk floated there, staring at me. After a few seconds, Man-Hawk said, “This is serious. Holy Fire has violated multiple statutes in The Hero’s Code.”

“Yes,” Neutron replied, “and it is not like him. He has his differences with Peter and Paul, but he has a begrudging respect for their work. His foundation even donates money to their shelter rather regularly.”

“Please,” I begged again, “Innocent lives have been put in danger because of what Holy Fire has done. Someone has to help. I’m worried someone will,” I gulped, “someone will die.”

Man-Hawk and Neutron continued to stare coldly at me. I could feel the ice from them as they considered what to do. “Fine,” Man-Hawk said after a few moments. “But you’re coming with us. If this is some setup to get us in your clutches then I want to take you to jail myself.” And with that, Man-Hawk picked me up and we were off, searching for Firebrand and Holy Fire. 

The first place we went was the smoldering wreckage of Peter and Paul’s. It was devastating seeing what had happened there. Paul was a mess, constantly sobbing and barely able to speak. When he saw the three of us, he came running towards us. “Incredible!” he shouted. “I am blessed to see you three here. Holy Fire flew west, into the mountains. Please,” he begged, “ you have to stop him.”

“We’ll do our best,” Neutron responded. “Do you need anything here? Perhaps we can help with the displaced members of your organization.”

“No,” Paul responded. “Already several heroes and some villains have shown up to check on the smoke coming from here. They are all in the process of helping in whatever ways they can. We will be fine here, assuredly.”

“Then we shall take our leave,” Man-Hawk said, beginning to fly away. “Take care, Paul. May your god be with you.” As we flew away, I watched as the huddled mass of mostly children shrank away into nothing. 

After a few minutes, Neutron spoke up. “If Holy Fire has brought Peter into the mountains, there is only one place he could have taken him. It’s an area known as God’s peak to some. It’s an incredibly high mountain, and several revival movements used it as a sacred place to hold baptisms and other religious ceremonies, due to how easy it was to get up it.”

“Unfortunately for us,” Man-Hawk continued, “the mountain was altered about twenty-five years ago. A bloody and deadly ritual was performed at the peak of the mountain, and the resulting battle made it more dangerous than it ever used to be. There was no clean-up, and the hero was even left buried there, a cross standing in the exact spot where he fell.”

“So,” I said, “Holy Fire must intend to cleanse whatever curse is on that ground then.”

“Or,” Neutron retorted, “he just knows it’s a suitably dramatic spot to finally end the Firebrand line once and for all.”

When we finally found Firebrand, things had already gone to shit. 

The first thing I noticed about the mountain peak was the cross. On it hung Peter, bound by the wrists with rope to the decaying wood. As my eyes shifted downward, I noticed that the peak seemed stained blood-red, a permanent affirmation of the atrocities committed on the peak. Finally, on the broken, jagged ground, stood Firebrand, a booted foot pressed on the chest of Holy Fire. 

As we landed, I shouted, “Firebrand, stop! Please, this isn’t like you!”

Firebrand turned to me, her eyes still glowing with flames, and her hair still a roaring flame. Waves of heat radiated off of her, causing all of us to sweat profusely, and the air to shimmer. It gave the situation a surreal quality, aided by Firebrands now much larger form, her distended muscles splitting the fabric on her jacket and pants, flames licking their way out of the small rips in her clothes. 

We simply stared at each other, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. Had I really lost her? Would I never get to know who the real Firebrand was? Barely thinking, I ran up to her. “Please, Firebrand!” I shouted. “Please, there has to be some part of you still in there!”

Firebrand merely glowered at me. “We have no need for this petty game anymore,” she said, her voice sounding like hundreds of voices speaking in unison. She pushed me backwards, the sheer heat from her body causing pain to my skin. “We are shedding any notion of changing the world through the people. We will burn this entire world to the ground, and let it start itself anew in the ashes.”

“Then I’ll stop you,” I said with as much confidence as I possibly could. 

Firebrand laughed. “What could a runt like you possibly do to stop us? You are nothing. You know nothing. We are one with the power of the flame and there is nothing you can do to stop us.”

I looked at Neutron and Man-Hawk, and they simply stood there. One of them had managed to get Peter down from the cross, and he stood cowering behind them. They were in combat ready positions, ready to try anything if Firebrand were to make a move to harm anyone. I looked back toward Firebrand, who was still standing threateningly. She took a step toward me, and I took a few steps back in response. 

My heart was beating intensely fast, adrenaline surging through my veins. Sweat dripped off every part of my body, and the intense heat seemed to grow hotter by the second. I could feel my hair sticking to my face, and the beads of sweat rolling down it as I stood up straight and clenched my fists. My nervous body trembled with fear as I realized I have no way of even matching her considerable strength. But I have an idea. There’s got be a way to reach her, and I think I know how. It’s got to work. It has to. I step up a bit, and weakly and warily, I begin to sing, 

“Can you feel the light shine?  
You know this song’s yours and mine  
Ain’t it good to know you got a place to go  
Where the melody’s fine?  
Sometimes I’m not so strong  
Even now I could be wrong  
But if you love me like music  
I’ll be your song”

As I sang, I kept my eyes on Firebrand. I saw her eyes begin to soften just a little bit, and her shoulders relax. Her head tilted to the right just a little bit, and she gave a soft smile. As I finished, we all stood there in silence. There was no wind, and none of us spoke. Rivulets of sweat continued to roll down my body as we all waited quietly. Minutes passed, Firebrand seemingly locked in a trance. I kept my gaze locked on her, examining her features, studying her. 

If this were my last time ever seeing Firebrand, I at least wanted to be able to remember what she looked like, at least a little bit. The short time I had spent getting to know her was more valuable than most anything I had experienced so far. I could feel the tears returning to my eyes, the sadness at the prospect of losing her returning to the front of my mind. 

Then, Firebrand lifted her arms. Fire began to form in between them, and I shut my eyes and prepared myself for death as I heard the fwoosh of flames being launched straight for me. 

When I hadn’t been turned into Jess barbecue, I looked up to see Neutron staring down Firebrand. “It was worth a shot, young one,” she said. “Better to try than to sit back and do nothing.”

“It is useless!” Firebrand shouted. “This world is corrupt, sick to its core! It is time we ended it, time we returned to the beginning of things! The age of fire will begin!” Firebrand then lunged at Neutron, who fired off a blast of energy at her torso. It knocked Firebrand off her balance, but she quickly regained her footing. The two then began to trade blows with one another, becoming locked in fierce combat. 

As I watched Firebrand and Neutron fight each other, Man-Hawk had come up beside me. “Have you turned your gaze upward recently?” he asked. I looked up into the now orange sky, what I had thought was the sunset. Instead, what I saw were giant clouds of fire, spiraling around the peak of the mountain. It looked like a massive hurricane of fire was forming over the peak. “Hopefully this can be settled before things get dangerous.”

“What can we do?” I asked Man-Hawk, the sounds of fighting continuing not far away. 

“I do not know, child,” he replied, shaking his head. “Perhaps Neutron can subdue her long enough for Firebrand to come back to her senses.”

But as the fight dragged on, it was clear Neutron was going to lose. 

Her skin was red and welted from the many burns Firebrand had inflicted upon her, and her movements had become sluggish. She was putting up a good fight, but she wouldn’t win. Firebrand had become slower and her movements less refined, but she still seemed far more capable than Neutron. 

In the end, the two landed direct hits on each others jaws at the same time, each landing with enough force to knock them both over. I watched as the two lay there, wracked with uncertainty. Sweat had long since stopped running down my body. Long, excruciating minutes passed, and Man-Hawk and I had begun to think the day had been won. 

Then, Firebrand began to stand up. Her eyes were still alight, and her body still warped and wild from her rage. When she finally stood up, she laughed. Loud and long, a terrifying signal of our complete loss. 

“Look,” Man-Hawk whispered, pointing towards Holy Fire. It appeared as if he was moving, ever so slightly. 

“I am unstoppable!” Firebrand bellowed. “You have lost, and now the world shall be bathed in flames, to be reborn anew!” With that, the heat became even more intense, almost burning my skin merely by its presence. The storm intensified, the sky quickly turning dark. Small droplets of flame began to rain down on us, and Firebrand merely laughed. This was it, this was the end. 

And then, Holy Fire brought his arms underneath Firebrand’s, holding her close to his body. “Firebrand! What has happened! Why do you threaten the city you love so much?!”

“Don’t play us like fools, you pious asshole!” Firebrand said, struggling against Holy Fire’s hold. “You burned down Peter and Paul’s sanctuary! You displaced dozens of lives for some righteous misbelief!”

“Nonsense, Firebrand! I would do no such thing! Last I remember, you and I had met because an apartment building you were hiding in had burned down.”

“Holy Fire,” Man-Hawk shouted in response, “That was a day ago now! Do you not remember?”

“A day?” Holy Fire said, surprised. 

“Over, in fact!” Man-Hawk continued. “After Firebrand escaped, you said she had gone too far this time. That you would find a way to get back at her, to show her the pain she caused the people in the building that day.”

“I remember none of that...” Holy Fire said, almost deep in thought. “If I wanted to teach him a lesson, I would have simply apprehended him and brought him to jail, you know this!”

“Regardless, you have broken multiple statutes of The Hero’s Code. You’ll have to answer for the missed day in court.”

“I shall take whatever punishment is given to me,” Holy Fire said, Firebrand still struggling against his grip. “At the moment, we must prevent Firebrand from burning down the city.”

“Agreed!” Man-Hawk replied. “But how will we subdue Firebrand?”

“Neutron!” Holy Fire boomed. “The LORD compels you, stand up and be healed!”

As if on cue, Neutron weakly stood up, many of the burns on her body fading into the beige color of her skin. “Thank you, Holy Fire,” she said weakly. Neutron limped over to Firebrand, and laid a hand on her cheek. “It is time to sleep,” she said, and Firebrand passed out. 

We all looked up into the sky, and saw as the storm began slowly dissipating, the rain of fire leaving and the intense heat parting for a cooling breeze. “That will last us no more than an hour,” Neutron said, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“What can we do when she wakes up again?” I asked. 

“We can only hope that when she wakes up, she has control over her powers again,” Man-Hawk said solemnly. 

The next hour would be the longest of my life. 

Eventually, Firebrand would wake up. Her hair had gone back to the short, jet-black hair I knew, and her eyes had returned to their bright green. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at me as I was bent over her, her head in my lap and tears in my eyes. “Greenhorn,” she whispered weakly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, “you’re here now.” I smiled and embraced her. She reciprocated, putting a single arm on my back. I looked up, in the direction of Holy Fire, Man-Hawk, and Neutron, the three of them framed by the twinkling stars in the night sky. 

“Good,” Holy Fire said, “You’re finally awake.”

“You,” Firebrand hissed. 

“I must apologize,” he continued. “In the past day I have committed many grave sins. My heart is heavy and I hope one day you may forgive me, but I understand if you do not.”

“I’ll never forgive you, not for anything you’ve ever done,” Firebrand said, venom lacing every word. “Maybe the rest of the world will forget what you’ve done, but the Firebrand never will.”

“So be it,” Holy Fire said, closing his eyes. “Man-Hawk! Call us a ride. These two may go wherever they wish, they have done no wrong today. I, however, must be taken to jail. I have sins to atone for.”

I looked over to Firebrand, who was looking up at me softly. “How did you get out? What happened?” I asked. 

She simply pulled me in for a kiss. 

END VOL 1 - THE FIRE AND THE FURY

A few days later, Firebrand and I went to a charity ball hosted by Madame Marquise, which had been organized as part of a relief fund to help rebuild Peter and Paul’s. Firebrand went in a tuxedo, while she gave me a simple black gown so I wouldn’t feel underdressed. Peter and Paul had been invited also, but chose to continue wearing their normal brown robes. We met Marquise at the very beginning of the ball, just as all the guests came in. She was wearing an extravagant blue dress, and a large golden necklace with a sapphire set into the center. 

“Good evening, my esteemed guests,” she said. “Charmed, I’m sure. Madame Marquise,” she said, extending a hand. We all shook it, and Peter and Paul exchanged names with her. “Though I’m sure you two already knew that,” she said to us as we shook her hand. “Such a shame what happened to Holy Fire. Nobody seems to know why exactly he burned down the sanctuary.”

“Yeah,” Firebrand said stiffly. “Sure is odd.” She seemed tense, I wondered if the high society atmosphere had her on edge. 

After an awkward moment, Marquise said, “You know, I do so hate the theatre of high society,” she said, glancing toward her large, ostentatious ballroom. “All these rich people, so ensnared by things and property, looking to put on the appearance of doing good. So easy to manipulate.” It almost sounded like she pronounced it manipul-eight. She paused for a second, stirring her drink idly with her middle pair of arms. “Here’s a tip,” she continued, “from villain to villain. You don’t need mind control to manipulate people. A push here, a wink there, and they’ll do what ever you want,” she stressed the last few words individually. “They’re like putty in your hands.” We stood there, awkwardly, as the tension in the room felt like you could cut it with a knife. “Well,” Marquise said, breaking the silence, “I must be off. Have to chat up some potential donors. Do enjoy yourselves tonight. Ciao!”

The rest of the night proceeded uneventfully, although every so often I would look over to Firebrand and notice her jaw was clenched unusually tight.


	2. The Malice and the Mystery

"What do you know about vampires, greenhorn?"

"Vampires?" I asked. Firebrand and I were headed to the MIVT. It had been about a week since Peter and Paul's sanctuary had been burned down by Holy Fire, and we hadn't really interacted much since then. Firebrand had told me she needed some space for a while, and while I would rather have stayed by her side to make sure she was okay, I reluctantly agreed. 

"Mhm," Firebrand sounded back. 

"Well," I started, "I know they suck blood, turn into bats, some die in the sun..."

"That's pretty much what all people know," she replied. "But vampires are a bit different than most people understand." Firebrand paused, shifting her cigar around in her mouth. "For starters, Vampires are immortal. There's not a single known way to kill them. They can still be injured, but there's no known ways to kill a vampire."

"I thought you could kill vampires, with, like, a stake through the heart or garlic?"

Firebrand shook her head, "That's fantasy, greenhorn. People have tried to kill vampires, but only three have been known to have actually died. One more was launched into space, and all four kills are attributed to the same family. Lucky for us, the vampires are so dedicated to preserving their status that they keep the only known ways of making more vampires locked away. So it's really something your accident managed to turn you into a vampire."

"I guess it is. But don't vampires get to turn into bats and fly and stuff? Why can't I do anything like that?"

Firebrand glanced in my direction as she drove. "More stories. Most vampire tales are drawn from Count Dracula, who could do that kinda stuff. But vampirism is a touch different. Most will get the blood suckin', but each vampire family has its own powers. Whatever family you're a part of gives Chameleon Powers, a kinda power that lets people copy others'. Other vampire families have different powers, but most are so secretive about what they are or where they even live that accurate information no longer exists.

You're the first new known vampire in decades, greenhorn."

"What does that mean for me? Can't I just stay out of vampire stuff? I don't really want to deal with any problems other than my own."

"It is your problem, greenhorn. Vampires are rich and well-connected. Guaranteed they already know about you and are already discussin' what to do about you. You're either gonna have a lot of new enemies or a lot of new friends, maybe both. You're gonna want t' be cautious."

We ended up at the MIVT a few minutes later, and headed down to meet Chip. The lab was mostly empty this time, save for a few students working on various projects. Chip was smiling when he saw us. "Greetings," he said flatly. 

"How's it goin', Chip?" Firebrand said warmly. "Heard you got some hot tech for us to check out."

"Absolutely," he replied. "Please, follow me. The new villain will assuredly be pleased." Chip then led us through a small hallway to a door with a familiar lighting bolt pattern on it. "Costume central," Chip said as he opened the door. "After you."

The room was rather large, and was covered almost wall to wall in various costumes, materials, and tailoring equipment. Chip led us over to a work bench, with a costume laying on it. I could feel a strange pull coming from it. "It's not quite matching to your aesthetic standards, but we had just gotten in a shipment of some material that we felt was perfectly suited to your power set, and my team just had to take it where it led us." 

The costume itself was eerily beautiful. For the head, there was a simple mask to cover the eyes, with obsidian horns on the edges where the eye would meet the temple. The horns shimmered a neon pink, and jutted straight up with a slight curve. The body was a jacket that zipped up in the back, a decorative seam running from the bottom of the waist, up and around the neck. The seam had four bands, all neon in color. Pink was on the leftmost band, then orange, then green, and finally purple. The pants were simple and black, topped off with strange, black shoes with bright pink shoelaces. The costume seemed to pulse with energy. Even though I could see what it looked like, it felt formless. It almost felt alive. I could hardly resist the want to put it on. It felt almost like it was made for me. 

"You like it," Chip said. "I can tell. You should put it on, see how it feels." 

So I did. 

After I put it on, I felt... different. A little like how I felt after the ritual had turned me. The costume fit perfectly (of course) and it felt almost like I was wearing nothing at all. I found pretty quickly that the costume responded to any thoughts I had about how it looked. If I wanted it baggier, or tighter, or in a different color, it responded. I changed it into something a bit more casual, and stepped out of the changing room. 

"I love it," I said. 

"Excellent," Chip responded. "There are some other items that belong to you. Come, follow. We have some technical details to go over while we walk there." Chip began leading us out of the room, and almost immediately started expositing again. "That suit is made out of a special material known as magicloth. Very hard to get a hold of but especially good for costumes. Since you're unpowered when not taking on someone else's, the magicloth should protect you relatively well from most attacks, super or otherwise. It will also hold up when using any kind of power while inside it. Very useful for Chameleons such as yourself. As you've seen, this magicloth is capable of shapeshifting, and has no doubt already bonded to you. It's not particularly high quality magicloth, only mid-tier at best, but anything higher is much too rare to make anything useful in short order."

Chip started slowing his walk as we approached another door, "Hopefully it and your new arsenal will prove very effective for you." Chip opened the door and we stepped inside another large room. This one was fitted with all kinds of weapons and shields of various types. Everything from blades, to guns, to bludgeoning weapons, and even some kinds of weapons I hadn't seen before. He led us again to a work bench, this one with a belt stretched out on it and covered with various kinds of packets filled with what looked like blood. 

"Simple stuff here," Chip continued. Firebrand and I had been mostly silent this entire trip. "Since you gain powers from drinking others blood, instead of giving you an outright weapon, we decided to outfit you with various powers from various different kinds of donors. Everything from the classic super strength and super speed are represented here, to more obscure powers like shapeshifting, stretching, or wind control. As long as you keep returning to us for blood you may never run out, but you can only carry a few packets at a time. Each packet, however, is made to be easily digestible. One only need to pop a packet in her mouth and bite down to get the blood on the inside. No muss no fuss as they say."

"Chip, this is incredible. I don't know how to thank you," I said, looking gleefully over the various kinds of super powers. 

"You don't need to thank me, I'm just doing what I love," Chip responded, grinning.

***

"So, greenhorn," Firebrand began as we stepped out of the MIVT, "before we give them powers a spin, mind doin' me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"You might remember Madame Marquise," Firebrand continued, "from the other day and the charity ball she held for Peter and Paul."

"How could I forget?" I asked, "What about her? It seemed from the ball you hated her guts."

"Well," she said, turning to me as we walked through the parking lot, "she's invited me to a dinner party at her mansion. I can bring a plus one, and was wonderin' if you'd be okay comin' along. I think somethin' fishy is up and I'd like to have someone with me in case things go south."

"Of course," I said. "It'd break my heart if something happened to you." 

Firebrand only smiled, though I couldn't help but see some kind of sadness behind it.

Later on that night, we arrived at the dinner party. Firebrand insisted we wear formal wear instead of our costumes there, which kind of chafed. She said something about how Marquise values etiquette, but I kinda checked out. I didn't really like Marquise, so impressing her didn't really matter to me. Nevertheless, we were wearing outfits not unlike the ones we wore to the ball she had hosted the other day. When we knocked on the door, a young woman wearing a beautiful, multicolored dress answered the door. Her immaculate, black hair was dyed with a streak of a kind of deep green, matching the primarily green colors in her dress. "Greetings," she said. "I am Rosemary. I take it you are here for the dinner?" She had an odd, pointed quality to her speech, almost as if the start of every word was being emphasized. "Unfortunately Madame Marquise has left on urgent business. Which, for her, could be picking up peanuts from a gas station in Japan. So it falls on me yet again to make this an entertaining and altogether normal dinner party, much like hers usually aren't."

"Greetings, Rosemary," Firebrand said. "In high spirits as usual, I see."

"Every day with Marquise is an adventure up the wall, I assure you," Rosemary turned to me. "And who are you, to come with the enigmatic Firebrand?"

At that, I kinda panicked, because I STILL hadn't come up with a secret identity. "Well, I, uh," I stuttered as I struggled to come up with a name on the fly. "My name is, I'm... Greenhorn, I guess." I glanced at Firebrand and she was blushing, brandishing a rather wry smirk. 

"Pleased to meet you, sister," Rosemary responded, as I looked at her, I could see an almost deliberate flash of her vampiric fangs. "Come, I must introduce you to the others in the lounge." She led us into Madame Marquise's frankly bafflingly large mansion, into what I assumed was the lounge area. 

As soon as we stepped in, a powerful stench hit my nose. My eyes immediately fell upon what was almost certainly the source. He was a tall, bulky fellow, with jet black, greasy matted hair. His face was painted up in white clown paint, not unlike a juggalo. He wore a silken purple outfit, covered in old, dried blood. His hands and arms were also covered in blood, and he sat there, facing forward, in an almost trance-like stupor. I pulled my attention away from the clowny miasma, and looked towards the other members of the dinner party. 

First was someone wearing a black shirt with what appeared to be a mustard yellow roman numeral two on it. (Or was it the Gemini symbol, maybe?) He was dressed the most casually for the group, with cargo shorts, short cropped hair with the top styled into an unkempt-ish set of spikes. He also wore a pair of glasses with lenses like those old 3-D glasses. Next was a woman in a red ball gown, her reddish-grey skin accented with large ram horns protruding from the sides of her head. 

There was also a man wearing a candy-red tuxedo, with high wasted pants. He sat grumpily next to another person, wearing a tuxedo with a long coat and a teal-green tie. They also wore bright red glasses, and carried an ornate wooden cane with a ruby-red dragon's head for a handle. "Finally!" they barked, showing off a mouth full of pointed teeth. "Some good fucking smells." They stood up, slowly, and began to walk towards us. "Mar-yammmm," they kind of growled as they approached us, "you should have told me the other guests wouldn't be psychics, I would have come better prepared." She held her gaze fixed forward, but began talking to me and Firebrand. "I'm Justice! You can call me she, by the way. I could smell your confusion." She tapped her nose a couple times, then brought her arm out to point at the man with the candy-red tuxedo. "Grumpy here is called Empath." She began moving her arm in reverse seating order, "The quiet one is known as The Ram. Mustard here is known as Lisp-"

"Tell them my real name, Justice," he snapped, revealing his very prominent lisp. 

"Fine," Justice responded, rolling her head in a circular motion. 

"You know I can see when you do that," he snapped again. 

"This surly fucker," Justice continued, poorly imitating his lisp, "is Binary. Lastly," she said, turning toward the one in clown makeup, still locked in a stupor, "is the clown... Some call him Jester, some call him the Bard, I call him gross."

"Pleased to meet you," I said. "I'm Greenhorn, and this is Firebrand."

"Greenhorn," Justice muttered, a small smile crossing her lips. 

"It is quite odd you would be invited to this party, Greenhorn," Rosemary started before Justice could say anymore. 

"Why do you say that?" I responded. 

"Well," she continued, "you and Firebrand are the odd ones out. Along with myself and Madame Marquise we are some of the most powerful psychics in existence. It seems odd that you would be invited. This is usually a private meeting of the minds, so to speak."

"It's bugfuck insane is what it is!" Empath finally piped up, practically shouting. "That spider-bitch leaves us for some unnamed emergency and invites along a couple of worthless humans to take her place? It's an insult is what it is!"

"I'm okay with it," said the Ram. "Perhaps they will be better conversation partners than Marquise."

"I fucking doubt it!" Empath snapped back. I was beginning to wonder why he was called that. 

"Pipe down, shouty," Justice snapped. "They're supers, and-"

"BIG FUCKING DEAL!" Emapth shouted, "LIKE I GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT KIND OF POWERS THESE RATFUCKING HUMANOIDS HAVE."

"Am I in a fucking hallucination right now," I muttered. 

"Why don't you shut the fuck up Empath," Binary remarked. "You're giving the guests a bad impression, shithead."

"OH, THAT DOES IT!" Empath shouted again, jumping out of his chair towards Binary. 

"SILENCE!" Rosemary interjected. Everyone froze in place, facing toward her. The Ram had floated above her chair, moving deftly out of the way of Empath's rage. Emapth and Binary were already on the floor, almost ready to kill each other. "Before you rip each other's throats out, perhaps we should move to the dining room and attempt to have a civil dinner while Madame Marquise is out for the week." 

As the motley crew of psychics filed out of the room, grumbling, I turned toward Rosemary. "We'll be right behind you," I said, "I need to speak with Firebrand really quick."

"You should be quick," Rosemary responded, "I won't stay long. The children need to be watched closely to make sure they won't murder each other." Then, she left the room. 

"What is it, greenhorn?" Firebrand said, apparently unfazed. 

"What the FUCK was that?" I asked. 

***

The dinner was, honestly, very surreal. We mostly sat in silence and chatted idly with one another, a huge contrast to the scuffle in the lounge. Empath was seated across from me, and in between both The Bard on my left and Binary on my right. The Ram was on the left side of me, and Firebrand was on the other. Justice sat on the far end of the table, close to Firebrand, and Rosemary on the other. Shortly into the main course, Empath began some diatribe about politics. It would cross in and out of various topics, like super relations, and vampire politics, and a lot of other things I probably should have been listening to. Empath was eventually interrupted by the lights cutting out. 

The next few moments were nothing short of chaos. Loud clatters sounded from across the room and what sounded like a short scuffle ensued. At some point the struggle pushed the table over, because I felt it falling onto myself. I pushed out of my chair and stood up, and then heard a dull thud, and the sound of somebody falling down. "Can you light a fire, Firebrand?" I asked, and then the lights turned back on. 

The scene was a mess. The table had been knocked over and food was everywhere on the ground. Rosemary had gotten up at some point, and was standing between Empath and Binary, who were fine but had their clothes messed up. Me, Firebrand, and the Ram were all standing together, the table facing the three of us as we examined the scene. 

Only Justice was still in her chair, her cane placed underneath both her hands, on her left side with her legs crossed. Her eyes seemed to be locked on The Bard, lying face down in a pool of his own blood. 

"It smells," said Justice, "like we have ourselves a murder."

"No shit Sherlock," said Binary. "You gonna tell us something else we all know?"

"It would behoove you to leave your attitude at the door of this, Binary," responded Rosemary. 

"You're one to talk!" shouted Empath. "You have just as much reason to kill the Bard as the rest of us!"

"I'm not okay with us fighting like this in front of the guests," said the Ram. "It is true we all have motives to kill the Bard, but we cannot tell who has done the killing. In fact, the only person we can be certain didn't kill the Bard is Justice, because she has not moved from her seat the entire meal."

"It's true," she replied. "And that makes me uniquely qualified to get to the bottom of this." She smiled a wide smile, baring a mouth full of pointed teeth. 

"Oh god," moaned Binary, "not more of your fucking justice boner."

"Why not?" Justice shot back, "It's in my name."

"Yeah, that you picked," Binary retorted.

"Only because it fits me so well." Justice stood up, swishing back her long jacket to place her cane at her hip. "Very well! It's time we began investigating this murder."

Justice had opted to remove us from the dining room, returning us to the lounge room we had gathered in earlier. Firebrand was chatting with the others about the murder, and since I was relatively disinterested with that, I had gone over to a window to watch the rain. At some point during the dinner a heavy rain had begun, making this basically like any other murder mystery. I wonder, if we tried to leave would we find ourselves trapped on the mansion's land?

"I take it you are not okay with the way things have happened tonight," said the Ram after I had been standing at the window for quite a while. As I turned to face her, I just barely noticed she was floating. 

"Yeah," I replied, "I just kinda expected this to be a normal dinner and then I'd get out of here. I didn't know I'd be dealing with a murder."

"Apologies. Murder is not a usual part of our dinners. Hopefully our perpetrator will be brought swiftly to Justice." The Ram floated idly beside me, expressionless. Her flat tone and strange mannerisms made me think of someone not of this world. 

"Hopefully," I replied. "Honestly, I'd rather not think of it. Why don't you tell me about yourselves instead?"

"Absolutely. As you know," she lifted a hand up to her breast, "I am The Ram. I'm a demon. My power is simple: I can pick up anything with my thoughts." She 'brushed' her long, curly black hair aside with a thought. "I was transformed many years ago, and have since become the most powerful of my kind, aided by the communal nature of the demons that transformed and raised me. Binary was a young hacker type. He is very secretive about how he gained his powers, but he can control computers and machinery with but a thought. Empath can cause others to feel the emotions he does at any given time, or vice-versa. He trained extensively on learning how to control his emotions and feel whatever may be needed at a moments notice."

"Doesn't stop him from being grumpy as fuck though," I joked. 

"No, not at all," the Ram responded, a small smile curling on her lips. "Justice is a powerful mind reader, but she's been blind for an extremely long time. She also has an obsession with smells and colors, a unique personality quirk of hers. Rosemary, as you no doubt already know, is a vampire. As far as we know, her only power is captivation. Mostly she just tends to her hobby of dress-making. The Bard, the dead one, was Empath's partner-in-crime. His powers were unique in that any emotion he felt would give him a different power. A natural fit for Empath. Unfortunately, he was addicted to drugs, a point which made Empath regularly sour."

"How did everyone meet, anyway?" I asked. The Ram was somehow soothing to listen to, and listening to her talk helped pass the time. 

"We all came together because of Marquise, I suppose," the Ram said. 

"Marquise? That's odd. What does she have to do with all of you?"

"As we all started our careers, Marquise would approach us, and offer to train us in our disciplines. We eventually met one another by virtue of being trained in the same building, or meeting each other at dinners much like this one. Empath and The Bard knew each other before meeting here, and I met everyone through these dinners. The nature of where I acquired my powers meant I had no need of Marquise's considerable resources."

With that, Justice entered the room, and all eyes turned to her. "I'm afraid," she began, "that we must turn in for the night. I have a lot of evidence, but much more thinking to do. I cannot let any of you leave." The room started grumbling, everyone obviously displeased with the turn of events. Justice raised her hand, palm-forward, to her shoulder, and everyone quieted down. "I hear your complaining and I don't care. There's been a murder and I intend to get to the bottom of it. That requires all of you to stay here. Rosemary," she pointed her cane at the seamstress, "care to show these people to their rooms?"

The others were filtered out and brought to their rooms, and Firebrand and I happened to share a room together. After her and I showered and were ready to turn in for the night, we began talking a little bit. 

"So who do you think did it?" I asked, interested to hear what Firebrand thought. 

"It could have been any of them, Greenhorn. None of 'em were exactly on good terms with one another, let alone the Bard."

"Even Justice?"

"Especially Justice," Firebrand corrected. "She was more than aware of why that clown had blood all over his arms. It's a miracle he hadn't been caught yet."

"Why is- was, I guess, he covered in blood anyway?"

"The Bard had a habit of murdering innocents. Not totally unusual for some villains, but this group was largely against it. Especially Justice and Empath."

"Empath apparently also hated the Bard's drug use, too. I was talking to the Ram and she told me that."

"So I heard, greenhorn," she looked at the floor and shook her head. "The Ram has motive, too. I heard from her the Bard was known for stealing from anyone and everyone, probably to fund his habit. She said she had quite a lot stolen from her over the years. Rosemary, too. She even mentioned the possibility that the Bard took the life of one of her family members."

"Why only the possibility?"

"She was really cagey about it. I pressed her a little but it seemed like she didn't want to talk about it much."

"Knowing all that, who do you think did it?"

"It's hard to tell, greenhorn. Even Marquise is a potential suspect."

"Really?" I asked, shocked. 

"Let's just say I don't think it's a coincidence she's away on an emergency."

"So you think she could have hired someone to kill the Bard? Why would she do that?"

Firebrand shrugged and lifted her hands in the air. "Let's get some sleep, Greenhorn."

Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up. I was travelling down some dark hallway, carrying a heavy object that I couldn't seem to turn my head to see. Eventually, I emerged from a door into another room. Someone was sleeping on the bed, but it was too dark to tell who it was. I slowly and quietly approached them, bringing the object in my hand above my head. As I approached them, their eyes opened and they whispered, "So it was you," as I brought the object down into their head and killed them with one blow.

I went back through the same door I entered from, and in a few minutes emerged back in my room, Firebrand still fast asleep. I slid back into bed, my eyes wide open, unable to move my body and unable to go back to sleep. 

In the morning, Binary was found dead. 

***


End file.
